


I’ll Carry You Home (You’re Not Alone)

by Mimiwritesfic



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sky is sad and so is Twi but they won’t let each other be self-deprecating, THE FIC, Title is SPUR OF THE MOMENT, and that’s valid of me, sky/sun isn’t central but it is important, tags will likely be edited at some point? If i remember lol, the others are mentioned - Freeform, today on “why did I let myself have another WIP”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimiwritesfic/pseuds/Mimiwritesfic
Summary: Poor Sky seemed pretty upset at being left behind when everyone finally rendezvoused—almost like he doesn’t like being told he should have been somewhere quicker....
Relationships: Sky & Twilight (Linked Universe), Sky/Sun (Linked Universe)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 179





	I’ll Carry You Home (You’re Not Alone)

**Author's Note:**

> For the weekly prompts on the discord: you’ve got a friend in me/tough love! Welcome to the first fic I’ve ever written for an actual prompt and subsequently completed. I wrote this in literally one day but I’m happy with the result. Enjoy!

_ This is an anthem for the homesick _

_ For the beaten _

_ The lost, the broke, the defeated _

_ A song for the heartsick  _

_ For the standbys  _

_ Living life, in the shadow of the goodbye _

_ Do you remember when we learned how to fly? _

_ We’d play make-believe  _

_ We were young and had time on our side…  _

—

The arrival of Warriors and Hyrule—their reactions to Legend’s pink hair notwithstanding—only stood out for their accomplishments after pursuing that strange stone head. An entire camp of monsters, apparently. Both of them smelled of smoke, had smudges of ash in various places, and Hyrule looked ready to vibrate in place from his leftover adrenaline. 

Sky wasn’t watching the laughing faces of his fellow heroes when Four turned to Wild and began a rant along the lines of “now stop breaking your swords before I have access to a decent forge to actually make a good replacement, the ice rod method makes the problem  _ worse _ so help me Hylia-“. He didn’t join in when Twilight (eventually) stepped up to defend Wild, though he would have normally. Instead, he watched Warriors laugh with the rest and join in on the heckling, every movement of his jaw highlighting the new wound. 

_ That’s close to an important vein. Probably gonna scar—badly. _

And he didn’t even know for sure how it had gotten on Warriors’ neck. He’d been left behind before it ever happened.

_ Late. _

If Sky was a little quiet that night, no one seemed to notice. He let the gentle hum of conversation flow around him without interrupting it, let the fire’s light touch everyone but him, let the casual camaraderie pass him by like a fleeting spring breeze. Someone—Wind—tried to get him to participate in some bet or another, but Sky politely waved him away. Dusk shifted and gave way to early night, the last rays of the sun winking out.

_ Late. _

Sky had already been in the shadows for a while by the time that happened. He barely noticed when the hum of conversation faded, when the regular shifting of people talking to each other became that of people reaching for bedrolls and rearranging limited blankets. He focused on his useless hands, not doing anything in particular with them—just watching, tracing his fingers over the tiny burns Fi had left. Even through his gloves they stung, a sign that he hadn’t paid enough attention before drawing her. 

_ Late.  _

“It’s getting pretty late. You aren’t on first watch—no need to stay up.”

Sky blinked, hurriedly turning his hands palms-down to hide the aching red crosshatch painting his fingers before Twilight could notice.  _ He _ hadn’t seen Fi rightly decide to burn her wielder for a slipup. “Yeah, I guess.”

Twilight gestured vaguely to the grass beside Sky, a silent query. Sky nodded and shifted slightly, an equally silent answer. Such was the way of every Link—silent until the situation called for it. Words weren’t needed on quests. They served as distractions. 

“Some scratch he got,” said Twilight in a murmur, indicating the side of his own face and glancing to where Warriors lay—ramrod-straight like a soldier, and with Wind flopped over his stomach  _ unlike  _ a soldier. “Good thing him and the traveler are good at getting out of sticky situations, huh?”

Sky made a noise that  _ could  _ have been taken as agreeing, but didn’t look over at Warriors or Twilight. He’d seen the scratch, and he  _ didn’t  _ want to see the inevitable disappointment on Twilight’s face. Even one extra sword could turn a battle right or wrong—Sky’s presence alone could have fixed it. The scratch wasn’t even the only wound. Warriors had been subtle about holding his elbow, but not subtle enough to escape Sky. 

His fault for not catching up, not insisting the others slowed down—but the latter might have actually been worse. He was a burden either way when he wasn’t  _ fast  _ enough-

“It’s my fault,” said Twilight, so quietly Sky barely heard him over his own thoughts. “If I had led them in another direction, they wouldn’t be hurt.”

Sky froze, Twilight’s words hitting him like a paralyzing shock. They flat-out didn’t register in his mind for a moment, so outlandish was the statement.  _ “Your  _ fault? All you did was help Legend, they weren’t even in your group. The truth is—the truth is, I was late, and I failed to protect them. You did nothing wrong.”

“And by helping one teammate, I hurt two more,” Twilight argued, his voice rising for a split-second before he remembered to lower it, glancing at the nearest sleeper—a comatose Wild, who appeared unbothered. “It ended well this time, but it’s my fault Legend grabbed that item in the first place. I lost focus for a  _ second  _ and caused this.”

“Legend’s…” Sky faltered for a moment, searching for the right word. He wasn’t fast enough—the quiet gap stretched uncomfortably long before he settled. “Legend’s  _ predicament _ wasn’t hurting him, right? He was embarrassed, yeah, and it would be awkward for him to explain, but he wasn’t hurt.”

“Warriors and Hyrule-“

“-were hurt because  _ I  _ wasn’t there,” said Sky sharply. “Still not your fault. I should have tried harder to keep up with them.”

“They went fast enough to lose you chasing  _ my  _ diversion,” Twilight countered. 

“I should have made them slow down so I could still be there!”

_ “I  _ should have double-checked the surrounding forest to make sure it was safe!”

_ “I  _ should have-“

A sleepy grunt from somewhere across the campsite made both heroes stop dead in the middle of their—argument? Over what? Who was  _ more  _ to blame? The realization was so absurd that Sky (much to his own consternation) felt giggles bubble up from somewhere behind his sternum, pushing through his lungs and popping at the top of his throat to escape. 

“Are… you okay?” said Twilight, clearly perplexed by Sky’s sudden giggling fit. 

“What—why are we even  _ arguing  _ about this?” Sky managed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Whether it was from mirth or pain he didn’t know, but at least it was gone quickly, evaporated like the gloom that had been overshadowing everything in his mind. The cloud still hovered—but the brief reality check had sheared right through, shining a light on the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Twilight opened his mouth. Closed it. “I… no, you have a point, I was being an idiot.”

_ “I  _ was.”

“Me.”

“Twi-“

Twilight snorted, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “We’re both a mess, huh.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and Sky couldn’t escape it. He curled his knees to his chest instead, holding himself together. “Yeah… little bit.”

“Wait, no,” said Twilight, noticing Sky start to recede into himself. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just—you’re trying  _ really  _ hard to place all the blame on your own shoulders, and I’m doing my best to do the same… seems a little backwards, if you ask me.”

Sky absentmindedly twisted the fabric of his pants between the fingers of his left hand, focusing on the sensation of shifting fabric to steady himself. A part of him—small, quiet, but there—said that Twilight was right, that he was being too hard on himself. That part sounded a lot like Zelda. 

The sun to his sky, lightening the clouds of self-doubt. 

“Tell you what,” said Twilight. “You don’t blame me, right?”

“Of  _ course  _ not,” said Sky vehemently. “I would never. What happened with you was an accident.”

“That’s why I don’t blame  _ you, _ either,” said Twilight gently. “I… I dunno. Deal? No blaming each other or ourselves?”

Sky hesitated for a moment. He had messed up, had gotten his teammates—his _friends,_ brothers even—hurt through his own inaction. 

_ But is it really your fault?  _ said the little part of his head that sounded like Zelda.  _ Did you put those monsters there? _

He hadn’t. 

_ Did either of them die? Were either of them even that affected? _

They weren’t.

_ Didn’t everything turn out alright in the end? _

“Sky?” said Twilightly softly, his gentle voice a call back to reality. Slowly, like he was approaching a scared wild animal, he held one arm open in a silent invitation. Lean in? Or stay alone?

Sky closed the miles-wide gap and gratefully leaned into Twilight’s side, accepting the comfort and the embrace. The little part of him that sounded like Zelda buzzed happily when he and Twilight silently agreed to not let guilt cloud their minds. Sky felt Twilight’s contented hum through where their sides met and knew he’d made the right decision—but in the end, it wasn’t up to him. Wasn’t it hypocritical to tell Twilight accidents were okay and berate  _ himself _ for an accident?

Everyone was okay. Maybe, if he tried, Sky could be too. 

_ Funny,  _ Sky thought, finally letting the tension in his limbs dissolve.  _ I’m usually the one giving hugs, and never to Twilight. This is nice.  _

Twilight’s ever-present pelt tickled his nose a moment later and Sky lurched back, stifling a sneeze. To his annoyance, the fur seemed to have done the same thing to his breathing that remlits—or Wolfie—usually caused. 

“No, I’m fine,” he said, sniffling heavily and waving Twilight’s concern away. “Just fur—this usually only happens around animals, like Wolfie-“

Another sneeze cut his sentence off, but Twilight now looked more thoughtful than concerned. “Right, you’re allergic to fur…”

“Not  _ that _ badly,” said Sky, finally blinking the tears from his eyes and wiping his face. “Just when a whole lot gets in my face—wait. Why do you say that like you already know?”

Twilight suddenly looked not unlike he did when Time did his Disappointed Face—like he was pinned under some bright searchlight, frozen while staring down the sightlines of an archer. “Er…”

Sky frowned, unwilling to pry—but at the same time,  _ achingly  _ curious. “Twi…?”

Twilight seemed to make up his mind with a heavy sigh. He reached under his shirt, pulling out something on a string that reflected the dying campfire and dim starlight off of odd points and unfamiliar black stone. Sky recognized it—the strange thing had dropped to the ground after Legend had un-bunnified himself, but he hadn’t seen Twilight pick it up again. 

“That’s the item Legend shouldn’t have touched, right?” said Sky, choosing to break the odd silence himself. “It… turns people into pink rabbits, right? Bit odd, if you ask me.”

Twilight snorted. “No, it—does something else. Legend trusted you not to say anything, and I do to. Promise not to freak out?”

Perplexed, Sky nodded—and Twilight gripped the stone in his bare fist, causing an odd  _ whoosh  _ noise and a tiny explosion of black rectangles in the air that covered the entirety of Sky’s vision. He blinked hard to clear the afterimages, only banishing the pulsing lights behind his eyelids after what felt like  _ entirely  _ too long. 

And when he looked down, Wolfie was lying on the ground, watching Sky with worried eyes. 

Worried  _ blue  _ eyes—Hylian eyes. 

“I’m an idiot,” said Sky after he got over his shock. He stifled a chuckle, half-amused and half-annoyed with himself. “You—there’s even the same markings on your  _ forehead,  _ how did I not  _ see _ that?”

Wolfie—no, Twilight—made a confused whuffing noise.

“I’m not gonna freak out, Twi,” Sky assured him, nearly reaching out to pat his ears before hurriedly correcting himself. “I’m not sure why you kept this a secret, but you don’t have to tell me—and I’m glad I’m on the list of people you trust.”

Twilight whuffed again, this time contentedly. He yawned wide enough to show off every single sharp canine a moment later, tiredly shaking his head. 

“It’s been a long day,” Sky told him. “I’ll take watch—whoa!”

Twilight, apparently, disagreed with that statement vehemently—he’d gotten to his feet and shoved Sky over in one smooth move, promptly laying his entire weight across Sky’s torso. He turned his head around and made a smug expression, which Sky didn’t know wolves could do. 

“Are you going to sit there until I fall asleep?”

_ Whuff. _

“Do I have a choice?”

_ Whuff.  _

“That’s a no. At  _ least  _ wake up the next person when it’s time to, okay?” Sky said sternly. Twilight rolled his eyes—the audacity!—and went back to scanning the campsite, looking for all the world like he was sitting on a convenient rock and not draped right over Sky. “Now that I know it’s you, Wolfie’s not getting my extra leftovers.”

Twilight gave him a brief glare, then went back to actually paying attention to his watch. Sky sighed and laid back, grateful for the soft grass below his head and the extra warmth radiating from the wolf. His friend. 

It hadn’t been a good day, he decided. As sleep drifted closer and started covering his mind in a nicer sort of cloud, he remedied that just slightly. 

_ I liked today, if just for the lesson it taught me.  _

Sky finally let the clouds take hold, let the gentle rhythm of Twilight’s breathing lull him to sleep—and he woke early the next morning with a snoring wolf still draped over his stomach, with only Time’s proud smile from across the camp as witness. 

(He still sneezed for quite a while after, but it was worth it). 

—

_ I’ll carry you home _

_ No, you’re not alone _

_ Keep marching on _

_ This is worth fighting for _

_ You know we’ve all got battle scars…  _

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from “Battle Scars” by Paradise Fears—good song, I rec


End file.
